


Balm

by Anne_Fairchild



Category: Dresden Files (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 12:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14520351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_Fairchild/pseuds/Anne_Fairchild
Summary: Bob wishes he could touch Harry so much!





	Balm

**Author's Note:**

> Every time I see Birds of a Feather, the scene where the skinwalker is torturing Harry, it just gets to me because of how she is obviously torturing Bob too, although not in the way she thinks she is. And then there is how badly I want it to be Bob who tends to Harry's wounds and cuddles his pain away. Makes.me.crazy.

It was late. Scott and his mother had left long ago, and Harry had finished doing the dishes. He literally crawled up the stairs, intent on reaching his bed and maybe staying there for a day or two. Every inch of his body throbbed. It really hurt where the skinwalker had punched and kicked him, and he figured he’d be peeing blood for a few days. The cuts on his face were especially painful. There must have been something about her body chemistry, like the dander on a cat, that made the wounds burn so much.  
  
Everything hurt. Not just his body, but the memories of a frightened child; memories Harry thought he’d left behind. Bob’s cutting comments, and the fact that he hadn’t come out of his skull since Harry had been back. While he’d once clung to his dad like Scott depended on his mother, Bob had been his protector most of his life. But Bob couldn’t protect him from the skinwalker, and the look on Bob’s face as he had to watch her beat him, and then realizing he’d been tricked on top of it...that hurt, too.  
  
Against hope, Harry had carried Bob upstairs with him. He set the skull on the nightstand, then got undressed very slowly and lay down on the bed, desperate to relax and sleep, but he could do neither. He just...hurt.  
  
“Harry?”  
  
When he opened his eyes, Bob was sitting on the bed, looking like hell.  
  
“Are you okay?” Harry asked.  
  
“You’re asking me that question? Harry – words cannot express how sorry I am, for everything. That I couldn’t prevent any of this. That I couldn’t stop her from - Gods, Harry, I’m so sorry!” He sounded utterly miserable. “The Doombox may have killed her, but I wanted to do it myself, piece by piece, inch by inch.”  
  
“I know,” Harry sighed. “I know, Bob. There wasn’t anything you could have done at the time - ”  
  
“There is never anything I can ‘do’!” Bob cried suddenly. “And when she was hurting you – I couldn’t bear it, Harry. I couldn’t,” he ended with a whisper. “Do you know how badly I wanted to be able to tend your wounds; to take away your pain? To hold you, and tell you everything would be all right. But I could do none of those things. I’m only ‘the ghost in the skull’,” he finished bitterly.  
  
“Bob. Why do you think I brought your skull up here with me?” Harry asked softly.  
  
“I can’t imagine why you wanted me anywhere near you.”  
  
“Don’t be an ass. You are a comfort, just being here. I brought you because I wanted you in the room with me, even if you weren’t talking.”  
  
“What would you have me say, or do?”  
  
“Whatever you want to,” Harry sighed.  
  
“Truly?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Close your eyes, then.”  
  
“ ‘kay.”  
  
There was no sound, and at first Harry felt nothing. He wondered if Bob was even there. But gradually a strange, fluttery feeling, like a thousand butterflies inside him trying to get out, moved in a slow wave from his head all the way to his toes, carrying a gentle warmth with it. Harry held his breath when he realized it was taking his pain away. The cuts had stopped burning. The ache in his kidneys was bearable now.  
  
“Don’t open your eyes.”  
  
“I won’t.”  
  
But Gods, he wanted to. He knew what Bob was doing, and he knew where he was. He wished Bob could stay with him just like this, forever, but he knew how much the loving act would take out of him. He would suffer for this while Harry slept.  
  
“It’s not fair, that one of us has to suffer just so we can...be together,” Harry sighed.  
  
“No, not fair. But life has never been fair, Harry.” Bob’s voice sounded strained.  
  
“I don’t want you to hurt because of me.”  
  
“It will pass. And it’s something I want to do.”  
  
“I’d rather have you stop now, if it means you can stay with me longer. I mean it,” Harry pleaded.  
  
“Very well.”  
  
The pain returned, but it was mostly just a dull ache. The butterflies stilled, but Harry could feel their wings beating softly against his skin, like a heartbeat.  
  
“Are you cold, Harry?”  
  
“No - you’re warm.”  
  
“I’m glad.”  
  
“Will you stay with me?”  
  
“Until you’re asleep.”  
  
“Bob?”  
  
“Yes, Harry?”  
  
“You know I...love you.”  
  
“I love you too, Harry.”


End file.
